Oh Those Summer Nights
by neworldiscoverer
Summary: A fluffy AU one-shot of Giles/Calendar because I am complete denial about what happened in Passion and this is my only way of coping. -"Real books will always trump those eBoo-... those," he pauses and waves his hand about disambiguously, "electronic books of yours." He lifts the book from his lap. "This does not need batteries. Nor will it ever need a recharge."


The night was warm and smelled like summertime.

The air was sweet like freshly mowed grass and rotting apples at the base of the trees. Mosquitoes and moths flew to the porch light, bumping against the glass until their fragile bodies crumpled and fell onto the stiff welcome mat at the front door.

The figure in the doorway is clearly female, her dark hair framing her face in soft waves. She leans against the doorframe, eyes peering into the fading light; the end of a lengthy day.

School is out and everything feels slow, like even time is taking a break.

It won't last long, she knows. Two weeks and classes will be back in session. The thought makes her take a deep breath and as she exhales it she hears something between a purr and meow at her feet then the feeling of a cat's tail winding around her legs.

A smile on her face, she bends down to stroke the feline and when she rises, she gently bumps him the rest of the way over the threshold with her foot and shuts the door securely.

In the kitchen, a tea kettle is whistling merrily. She briskly walks into the room and turns off the glowing burner on the stovetop. On the counter there are two ceramic cups with handles, sitting side by side. She slides them closer, preparing the tea and filling the cups.

One in each hand, she climbs the stairs, moving carefully so as to keep the hot tea from spilling. Their cat, Griffin, tumbles up the stairs and she stops midway so as not to step on his tail as he races past her.

She hears his paws hit the floor along the hallway rug as he bounds towards the bedroom.

Looking into the room, she finds him curled in the middle of the comforter, purring as loudly as possible and blinking his green eyes at her.

Her feet barely make a sound other than the loose floorboard near the foot of the bed creaking when she passes over it. The sound makes the other person in the room look up from his book.

He smiles and she remembers why she will never get tired of seeing it. There's a little boy in that smile and it stirs as if to wake the little girl she used to be. Innocence and youth. Both seem so far away now, but having him close like this keeps her from forgetting. Reminds her of hope.

Hope is often a rare thing to find in a town like theirs.

"It's hot," she cautions, handing him the cup of tea from her right hand.

He thanks her and gives her one more smile before turning back to his book. The pages are discolored, purely from age, and even though she has never met a man more careful with literature than he is, the book looks like it might fall apart if he breathed too heavily on it.

Walking around to her side of the bed, she sets her cup on the nightstand and slides under the duvet.

The lamplight makes everything in the room take on a yellow hue. Griffin looks like a little lion and mews in protest as she stretches her legs out, disturbing his prostrate position.

"Oh hush," she tells him lightly, sitting back against the headboard and picking up her eBook reader from where it had slid down between the pillows.

She's barely found the place where she left off when the screen pulses and the device softly beeps, indicating a low battery level.

He looks over at the sound and hears her sigh and slump back. She looks at him over the steam rising from the cup cradled in her hands, long fingers wrapped around the circumference. "Don't say it," she says, a twinkle in her eyes all the same.

One corner of his mouth quirks up. "Who me?" he feigns ignorance, "I wasn't about to say anything."

She huffs a little and nudges her knee at him. "Okay, Rupert," she allows, "You can say it. Just this once."

"It's not nearly as fun when I have your permission," he says, his eyes leaving the book as he places his finger down to mark the paragraph where he left off. "All the same... I did tell you."

He lifts his other hand and shakes his finger at her in mock reprimand. "Real books will always trump those eBoo-... those," he pauses and waves his hand about disambiguously, "electronic books of yours."

He lifts the book from his lap. "Now this... This does not need batteries. Nor will it ever need a recharge."

She rolls her eyes good-naturedly and leans her head against his shoulder. "Point taken, dear. It may not need a recharge, but it looks like that edition could use a little... restoration?"

He makes a little show of being offended, though they both know better by now. "This is the only known printed text on this Lich creature and it is surely more valuable than anything your "thing" could ever hold."

"You really think that, don't you?" She raises both of her eyebrows and he has the sense of mind to feel minor unease, like his one-upping is about to come to a sudden end.

"I do," he confirms, watching her reach down for the cord to plug in her reader. The screen comes back on, brighter than ever, as it recognizes the power source.

"Think again, old man," she jests, swiping her finger over it and tilting it in his direction so he can see the cover.

The name matches the book in his hands.

He clears his throat twice. "Well. I, erm. ...I stand corrected."

"I love a man who knows when he's wrong," she says easily, leaning closer and pressing a kiss on his cheek.

He can feel her lips curve upwards against his skin.

"I am good at that, aren't I?" he says and she watches him place a piece of paper between the pages on his book before shutting it.

"You could say that," she says cheekily and shifts to face him more fully when he grasps her chin in his hand and looks like he is about to kiss her properly.

And he does.

And they do.


End file.
